Dear Douchy Dad at the playground,

I apologize for mistaking you for my neighbor’s husband; I have never met the guy in person and I thought you might be him. I realize I probably looked a bit frightening in my sweaty/out of breath/can barely walk post-run state, but you didn’t need to get all weird and uncomfortable when your kid wanted to play with my kid, you freak show. This isn’t Wisteria Lane and I wasn’t trying to mack on you. Trust me, if I came to the playground to pick up guys I might actually have put on some make up or, at the very least, deodorant. And don’t think I didn’t notice you were rolling in a Hyundai, so you can drop the attitude and quit pretending you’re checking your Blackberry. I can assure you, if I was looking to hook up, it wouldn’t be with you.

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